Jack and Jack
by merick
Summary: Torchwood is faced with finding a serial killer who haunts the dark alleys of Cardiff, a gruesome killer with a style that isn't so unique, at least to Jack. Contains medical descriptions of murder victims and Slash inuendo.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer, I do not own the rights to any of these characters.

Jack and Jack

JPOV

How many years have I seen?

Perhaps musing like that is better measured in decades, or even centuries? Perhaps millennia?

No, that isn't fair, I haven't actually lived all those years; I've only been a guest in many of them. That comes from travelling with the Doctor; you go a great many places, in a great many times.

And then there's Torchwood, and the people I worked for, before they gave it such a nice, tidy name. Somehow I have been co-opted, or better, corrupted by this planet that has adopted me. Earth is as good a place as most civilizations can claim. Some peace, sprinkled with a serious dose of conflict, and the occasional coulis of alien intervention thrown on the plate. It's a good thing I don't scare easily. (It also helps that I really can't die, not permanently at least. –Not to say that the various attempts don't hurt, because they do, they hurt like hell on so many levels.-)

Every time I land in presents its own challenges. I try very hard to stay above them, and above the people I find myself thrown in with, but it never works. Perhaps I don't try hard enough? At the heart of it all, no matter where I am, I want the companionship, and so I give in. Things really would be so much easier if I didn't.

XXXXX

Owen Harper smacked the newspaper down, on his desk, with a crack of the tightly folded sheets. He hadn't opened it; there really had been no need. The point he wanted to make was emblazoned, on the front page, in bold black letters, for everyone in the room to read.

"Cardiff Killer Strikes Again"

"Your point, Owen?" Jack Harkness asked casually, over the railing of the catwalk he was haunting, lording over the members of his team, all of them at work at their stations in the Hub, except for Owen, who was staring daggers at him, his hands on his hips.

"Same as last night, Jack." Ianto commented, as he breezed by with his tray of mugs, a haze of steam rising from each one as he distributed them gracefully in front of their owners. Jack's was last to be delivered, up the metal steps and handed to him, Ianto grasping it by the rim so Jack could take it by the handle where it wasn't so hot.

"Can you not leave this in the hands of the local constabulatory, Owen? We agreed after reviewing the first two murders that this was a human matter."

"You agreed Jack, and expected the rest of us to follow along," Owen gestured out to the others, who were doing their best to keep their eyes averted from another confrontation, "Just like you always do." Owen was in a particularly foul mood that day.

Wrinkling his nose, and making an exaggerated pouty face, which he knew would annoy Owen to no end, Jack turned his back on the assembled group, resting against the railing, breathing in the scent of the coffee Ianto had handed him. He knew he wouldn't win the argument with Owen. In truth, he was beginning to wonder himself, about the type of monster, (and he used that term seriously), that would find pleasure in cutting people up like a butcher might. He sighed, feeling Ianto's gaze on him. That boy knew more about his moods than Jack was willing to overtly acknowledge, and he reckoned Ianto knew what his next lines would be, even before he did. He spoke without turning around.

"Take Tosh and go and have a proper look at this new scene, Owen. See what you think."

"Finally." Owen muttered, slipping in his ear bud, making no attempt to disguise his disagreeable nature. Toshiko followed him without a word, adjusting her own device to fit properly, as she pulled her dark hair over it. Ianto watched them depart, not saying another word until they were well clear of the Hub. Only then did he turn and lean on the same rail as Jack.

"Do you think there might be something to this one, Jack?"

"Starting to sound a bit too much like that other case, Ianto. Now there's a third? Time to bring some of our talents to the fore I think." Jack mumbled cryptically, taking a thoughtful sip of the coffee and grimacing, wrinkling his forehead. He'd been trying to avoid letting his thoughts wander around this one, mostly because he wasn't prepared for the implications of them.

Ianto knew when Jack was in a pensive mood, (amongst other moods, Jack didn't make much of a secret of those). And he knew when he could question, and when it was better if he didn't. Today was one of the "better if he didn't" days, and so he gave Jack a curt nod, with half a smile curling up the right side of his lips, and went down to check on Gwen.

XXXXX

It wasn't that Owen didn't like Jack, or at least he knew deep down inside it wasn't that. Only, it was just some times, he just wanted to shake the man to his senses. Bad enough he played most everything close to the vest (but didn't hide that he was doing it), but his quiet reluctance to support Owen was beginning to make the other man very frustrated indeed. Not that Owen was going to leave Torchwood, nobody ever left Torchwood and remembered doing it. He was not about to be ret coned and given a false story about the last few years of his life. It was the futility of it all that swayed his moods so drastically. He didn't really have much outside of Torchwood; because one night stands and pints at the local really weren't a life, not in light of everything he had seen. He could put up with Jack Harkness for that. He wanted to believe his insistence had finally paid off, because he was out in the field with Tosh, even if they were looking over a crime scene that was ten hours old, give or take. Their tech could sort out more than the locals' could, and Owen and Tosh were making the most of it.

"The body was found here." Owen gestured for Tosh, the object of his outlining having been long since removed. "Throat slit, Y incision across her chest and down her abdomen; like an autopsy."

"Anything missing?"

"Haven't heard yet, but I'll get you to pull up the coroner's report when we get back to the Hub." He glanced at his watch and made a mental calculation. "Should be on file by now."

Toshiko Sato looked around at the walkups that closed over them in the alleyway. She tried to take in every detail she could, as she passed her sensor pad over the area Owen had indicated. The crime scene was very much like the first two she had seen, a dark place, out of the way of street view cameras, and passers-by. It even smelt like death, she thought. And she wondered if the streets ever completely dried from the rain and the runoff and the damp. They had a glistening quality to them that wasn't pretty at all. She'd trod through many nasty things working with Torchwood, but this time felt as if she needed to toss the shoes she was wearing into the bin as soon as she got home. There was just that kind of air about the place.

"You feel it too, don't you, Owen?" She asked, examining his facial set.

"Yeah." He mumbled as he swept up the area with one of his scanners. "Swear there was a piece of the rift here."

"Is that possible?"

Owen shrugged. "Worth a look, don'cha think?"

"Yeah." Tosh's tone was a little guarded too; she hurried to finish up her own inspection, feeling the need to get away. "This place is different than the others."

"Only because we got here sooner than the others I bet." Their examination of the previous scenes had been cursory at best, long after the crimes had been committed. "This kind of stuff washes away in the sunlight."

"How do you know that?" His comment had startled her, mostly because she'd had the same idea; she just hadn't said it out loud.

"Just seems like it might. I don't know." Owen was edgy; She could see that in the tense muscles in his jaw. There was something otherworldly going on here, she could just tell, and it was time to get away from it and back to the Hub to sort it out, with Jack.

XXXXX

Jack had been watching the pair ever since they had returned from their excursion, but he hadn't been making a show of it. Ianto had noticed, but he always noticed those types of things. And he didn't mind the excuse to steal glances at Jack. His disquiet had been Ianto's as well.

Tosh and Owen had been huddled around her computer workstation for a good hour, they'd taken more coffee from Ianto, but had offered nothing to him as any sort of hint as to what they were thinking. Gwen had purposely stayed away from the huddle; she wasn't about to choose sides, however innocent her actions. She stole glances back and forth between Jack's office and Tosh's desk though, never quite managing to catch Jack doing the same. Only when Owen stabbed his finger at the monitor with a loud "yes!" was the uncomfortable silence of the room finally broken, and Gwen felt she had permission to join in the group.

From his office, Jack stood from his chair and went out to the catwalk, slowly making his way over, knowing that Owen would wait to make any more pronouncements about his discovery until Jack was there to hear and see for himself.

"What have you found out?" Jack crossed his arms, in the impatient way he had of saying, "okay, I'm here now, let's go". Ianto liked to think of it as a bit of a pissing contest between Jack and Owen that played out regularly. He hung back a little ways, closer to Gwen than anyone else, also trying to remain on the neutral side of the equation.

"All three women who were killed had internal organs missing."

Gwen wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"You got the autopsy reports then, Tosh?" Jack was suddenly leaning in a great deal closer than he had been, though as usual, his face was betraying none of the inner workings of his mind.

"I did." She grinned a little and toggled through the pages on her computer screen. It hadn't really taken much effort on her part, but accomplishing it, considering that Owen had asked her to do it, made her feel a little proud. The fact he had been standing so close to her, absorbed in the facts she had acquired, had left her just a wee bit giddy, not that she was about to acknowledge it to anyone else in the room.

"Besides having their throats slashed, the first one was missing her right kidney, the second part of her liver and right kidney, the third, the uterus." Owen said it so matter of factly Gwen couldn't help but shiver. She knew his medical background gave him that detachment, but it never ceased to frighten her when she heard him speak it out loud.

"Is there anything else they have in common Owen?" Jack had remained in the thick of the group, speaking with the same detachment as Owen. It made Gwen shudder again. Her emotional nature had gotten her into trouble before at Torchwood, but it was so hard to keep it in check, especially as she watched those two men, both of whom she had feelings for, feelings she tried to suppress, feelings that confused her as much as they excited her. She gritted her teeth and refocused on the important matters.

"The first two were last seen leaving pubs, in different areas of the city, the third was working the streets," Owen's euphemism for a prostitute, "and all of them were killed within blocks of where they were last seen."

"So, do you think the crimes were premeditated or attacks of opportunity Owen?" Jack's voice indicated he had an idea of his own, but wanted to hear Owen's first.

"Could be both, but I tend towards the premeditation possibility."

"Why?"

"Because to find a place that offered enough concealment might be had by chance in one case, but not in three."

"I agree. The killer knew his locations well, knew how to avoid the cameras, and the pedestrian traffic. But it doesn't mean that the victims themselves weren't chosen at random."

"Also true." Owen and Jack were getting on a roll; the whole of the team could see it as the ideas played off each other. It was good; it was how they worked best.

"He could have been looking for "a type" as his victims, and just knew where to wait for them."

"So you're saying this person went out intent on killing someone? Didn't matter who?" Ianto added his ideas, generally designed to open the floor discussion even further. It was one of his many talents. Jack suppressed a little grin at the sound of his voice. No matter what he showed outwardly, he had great respect for the team he had put together, and their analytical skills.

"That's the premise I think we should work with." Jack answered.

"So what is his type then?" Ianto continued feeding the group.

"Have you found anything else they had in common, all three of them, besides the way they were killed?"

"Not yet." Tosh murmured. "But now that we have the leave to continue?" She swiveled to Jack, eyebrows raised.

"Why do you think this is more than your typical psychopath, Tosh?"

"It was the way the scene felt Jack; it was otherworldly, there was just something in the air that felt 'wrong'." She tried to explain it, knowing that if any group in the world could understand what she was trying to communicate, this would be the one.

"Okay. Keep looking, tell me what you find." With his words, Jack ordered them all to continue searching, not that the tone was dismissive. The order had another one of his secrets behind it, they all knew it, but only Ianto decided to pursue it, and Jack as he returned to his office, his mouth drawn up in tight line.

Shutting the door, Ianto confronted him as he often did, as Jack expected him to do.

"So? What is it?"

"Just thinking about something, Ianto." Jack sank into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest staring out the glass wall but not really seeing anything, or rather, not seeing anything that Ianto could.

"From your past? Or your future?"

"Past, but I'm not sure, and I don't want to poison an investigation by making assumptions. At least not out loud."

"I understand."

Jack looked up at Ianto, standing by the door, hands locked behind his back, suit perfect, face neutral, eyes staring right back at him.

"I imagine you probably do, Ianto." He let his head bob up and down slightly, and slowly exhaled, knitting his fingers together and resting them against his lips. "Is it all right if we don't talk about it just yet, Ianto?"

"Of course." Ever the efficient Welsh butler, Jack stared thankfully at the man, and pondered just going over to take a kiss from him. Something about doing that always made Jack feel more grounded, but he never let himself explore that feeling, or at least he didn't often let himself explore it, except for some nights, when he stayed alone at the Hub, when his past transgressions demanded it.

"Jack?" The silence had unnerved Ianto.

Smiling, Jack tried to let the desire pass over him with a suppressed quiver in his chest.

"Sorry Ianto, it's nothing. Go see what you can do to help the others, okay?" He let his hard features soften a little as he spoke with Ianto.

"Of course." And Ianto did a little bow and turned smartly on polished black shoes leaving Jack behind.

As Jack watched the man leave, the idea of kissing him still lingered, and the idea of having more than that. He knew it wasn't the way to solve any of the roiling in his gut at the situation, but he knew that the distraction, that the pressure of the soft, innocent mouth, however brief, would be welcome. He let him go anyways. He needed to focus on this series of murders, and sat back in his chair, reviewing the files Tosh had found, now called up on his own computer. He could have said the first two had the connection that they were coming out of a pub, even though they'd been different pubs. But the third one hadn't been near a pub, she'd last been seen working her usual corner; at least according to police reports from her girlfriends on the street. But not one of them seemed to remember whom she might have gone off with, or where she had wandered on her own. There really was nothing overtly connecting them at all, two brunettes, numbers one and three, one blond, number two. One and two had regular jobs, office work, and retail, number three, well, not regular he guessed. They lived in three separate neighborhoods, all in walk up flats. The unhappy thoughts he had eluded to with Ianto, kept pushing to the fore, as much as he tried to find any other explanation besides the one that was pounding at him.

He made up his mind then to go and see the three scenes himself, and to take Ianto. If there was ever a time he needed to be grounded, that was it.

"Ianto!"

XXXXX

In inverse chronological order, Jack saw each of the three alleyways where the murders had happened, Ianto standing resolutely behind him as he examined each area, touching bricks, letting his hands hover over the spots where the deaths had occurred. Ianto did not ask how he knew, Jack just did. He made his own observations, and even though further time had passed, he, just as Owen and Tosh did, just as Jack was doing, felt the disturbance in the very fabric of the place.

"There is something off about this place, Ianto." They were the first words Jack had spoken at the final scene. "About all these places. Can you sense it?"

"I can."

"Normal killers don't disturb the very 'being' of a place, Ianto." Of course that was obvious, but Jack often thought out loud, (when working with Torchwood that was,) in a way close to that of Ianto.

"Is it an alien, or something from the rift?" Ianto knew that a great many of the problems that arose in Cardiff originated in the rift. If you pictured it, there was a sort of net around the world, one that generally held back most of the nasty things from other times and dimensions and places. The occasional small thing leaked through the net, the odd ghost and poltergeist, imp or elf. But when there was a full on tear, like the rift that existed in Cardiff, bigger things tumbled through it, and sometimes things went the other way. It was a safe guess.

"It must be Ianto, and we have to figure out how to track it."

"Any sensor readings?"

"A few. If I put them together with Tosh's research, we might be able to sort something out. At least enough to alert us, if whatever energy that surrounded this area, returns."

"Should we send Owen out to see the body, see if there's anything there still?"

Jack stood, smiling at Ianto.

"Brilliant idea. Let's head back and get that organized."

XXXXX

Once again, Jack found himself perched on his catwalk, staring out at his team, everyone with a job finally. Gwen had made her usual efficient calls, and Owen had packed up his gear to go and see the bodies, Gwen in tow. That had been a few hours earlier, and now they were inputting their data as Tosh correlated her readings to Jack's. Even Ianto was at a workstation, using his skills to research the three victims, trying to find any kind of connection between them that Tosh's search could have missed. Sometimes Ianto saw things others missed; it was another thing that endeared him to Jack.

"I've got it!" Not normally prone to outbursts, Tosh slapped a hand over her mouth, hardly covering the grin.

"What do you have, Tosh?" Jack's feet were moving before she'd even finished her exclamation, he could feel the edge of needing to make some progress as much as everyone else could.

"An energy signature, it gets fainter with each preceding crime scene, but it's there, and I think I can set the systems to alert for it."

"Good job." Jack clapped her on the shoulder; she took his enthusiastic reaction happily. "The next question is, once we see it will we have enough time to get to the scene before someone else gets killed?"

"Not without a lot of luck." Owen sighed. "Whoever this guy is, he's skilled, and he's fast. These women still had hemorrhagic tissue at the site of the excisions."

"Which means?" Jack turned to Owen, who had not budged from his workstation.

"Means that he slit their throats, and before their hearts stopped pumping he was cutting into them again." Again, his matter of fact manner sent a chill down Gwen's spine.

"You mean they were still alive?" She half squeaked.

"Technically. They were likely in shock, so they didn't feel anything. But for someone to be able to do that is pretty incredible."

"What about time of death, Owen?" Jack tried to steer the conversation away from the obvious gruesome.

"Middle of the night kind of stuff, Jack."

"And you can track it, Tosh?"

"Setting it up now, Jack."

"I'll make more coffee then." Ianto got up, rebuttoning his jacket.

"Find anything on your end, Ianto?"

"Nothing. No clubs, or gyms, or locals, or schools or jobs in common." He sighed. I've got a program running to look deeper; I'll leave it go."

XXXXX

JPOV

I cannot let this happen again, I can't. I watch everyone working so hard to find a clue as to who, what this is, and where he is going to strike next. I don't have the answer to the second question, anymore than I did a century ago. But I do have an answer to the first; well, I think I do. I just don't want to say it out loud, hell, I don't even want to think it quietly. I want to hope, and pray and light candles or whatever the hell it will take to make me wrong about this.

I look at Ianto and I want to tell him everything, especially when he stares at me, those beautiful liquid eyes seeming to feel sorry for me. I don't want to deceive him most of all, because he knows me. I'm hurting him enough as it is, with all my silence. He's been tiptoeing around me; they all have. One part of me likes the power that knowledge gives me, the other part feels like the outsider again. But of course, I am the outsider: out of time, out of place. I want to be like them, but I can't, and maybe that's the knowledge that kills me inside. I wish Ianto would just come up here, I wish I could just lose myself in his arms, and his body.

I hate that I am going to leave him behind.

XXXXX

There were pizza boxes and coffee mugs lying about everywhere, and Ianto had nearly given up trying to keep the Hub clean. They'd been five days waiting for something to happen, taking a few hours to themselves during the day, to go home, to shower and shave, and do whatever it was girls needed to do. There'd been nothing on Tosh's sensors, and no other murders (at least that was a positive slant to the endeavor). Jack was up every night, and they took turns staying with him, sometime in pairs, sometimes alone. That night Ianto had stayed with Tosh, and everyone was stepping around each other, not really concentrating on anything as fully as they should. The murders had become all consuming and Ianto couldn't help but notice the far away look that haunted Jack's eyes, at once it warned people away and beckoned them in to help.

"I think you need to talk to me, Jack." He shut the door behind himself as he went to the edge of Jack's desk and rested against it. When Jack hardly moved, Ianto reached over and put his hand atop of Jack's. He felt the man actually tremble.

"Jack?"

"Sorry, Ianto." Jack's voice was very quiet.

"It's been nearly a week, do you think he's done? Moved on?"

"I don't, Ianto, not by a long shot."

"You know who this is, Jack?"

There was a long pause, when Ianto could hear nothing else but Jack breathing, and he clutched at his hand a little tighter.

"He used to be called The Ripper." Jack smiled a little sadly, "Jack, the Ripper."

"What?"

"I don't even know where to start, Ianto." Jack's upturned face spoke volumes in its disquiet.

"You know him?"

"I know of him."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't want it to be true."

"Jack?" Ianto's tone was stern and confused as he looked down on the man who had been, who was, an intimate partner, as if he really didn't know anything at all about him.

"We couldn't stop him before." Jack whispered.

"What do you mean?" His grip tightened again.

"He fled into the rift." Jack's voice was so otherworldly Ianto began to feel frightened for him. "I should have gone after him." His face turned and looked at Ianto, the regret replaced everything else. The men looked at each other, searching each other's face for a good, long pause. Ianto didn't know what to say, even though his mind was racing. Neither man moved.

It was almost a relief when the alarm sounded, even though it likely meant another life was in danger. Two tightly coiled springs sprung into action. Both their earpieces crackled to life.

"It's moving!" Tosh yelled into their ears. Her movement below was a blur of anxious activity. Ianto grabbed up Jack's greatcoat, as he usually did and held out the sleeves for him. There was no time to linger then, to let the scent of Jack infiltrate his nostrils. And, somewhat sadly, Ianto let the moment go.

XXXXX

It was raining in Cardiff, and well past midnight, the stones on the streets were glistening in the streetlights and headlights as Jack pulled the SUV to a stop where Tosh had directed them. They leapt from the vehicle, Jack's greatcoat floating around him as he did so. The men had guns drawn, as Tosh motioned them down another dark alley, running ahead, blue lights from her sensor casting a faint illumination on the stone walls. Jack could see the hunched figure before them as it stood, wheeling on their approaching party with a fluid grace. There was a body on the ground; one that was still breathing, her breath visible as white fog against rain and cold.

"Get away from her!" Tosh screamed, being exactly the wrong thing to do Jack thought, but it was too late to silence her. He stopped his advance, training his gun on the figure as it stalked towards Tosh. He watched as she was suddenly pulled backwards like a limp doll, almost into the void that seemed to surround the man. She was not out of his line of sight, but out of the range of his weapon, with her body now between his gun and her assailant. Her pleading eyes, now wide, stared at Jack and Ianto, who likewise had his gun trained in her direction. Both men could see the silver blade suddenly drawn against her throat, and the trickle of blood that began to flow from its pressure against her skin.

"Leave her alone!"

The next thing Jack saw was Ianto flashing past him, launching himself at the pair, knocking Tosh aside and rolling with the man who had held her captive so briefly. Rushing forward Jack caught her, eyes still on Ianto, who had the man by the wrists though he was losing the battle.

For Jack it seemed like slow motion just then, watching Ianto, letting Tosh down safely, trying to decide on his next step, all in only a split second, and then Ianto was falling to the ground, and the blade slashed again, and only a brief gurgling cry cut through the sounds of the street behind them.

"Ianto! No!" He raised the gun and fired at the assailant, nicking his left shoulder, throwing him off balance, and sending him reeling away from Ianto who slumped to the wet stones. Jack took off in a run after him, focused on catching him, barely hearing Tosh screaming after him, a warning, about the rift, it was lost in the anger of seeing his team assaulted, of seeing Ianto, bleeding, motionless. Emotions took over, the ones he guarded so closely spilled forth. The rain poured down on him, swallowing the noise. He saw the blinding light of the rift, but it didn't even register as he tore through it in pursuit.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer, I do not own the rights to any of these characters.

Jack and Jack

Part 2

He felt the pressure on his lips pulling him from the emptiness, a soft and careful caress, but different than the fringe of the memory he skated around. It wasn't warm, or insistent, or beckoning, and it raised none of those feelings in him. He wanted to ignore it, to stay in the nothingness, but there was a pull towards consciousness, as someone spoke his name.

"Ianto?"

The voice was wrong. Well, not wrong, but not the one his heart expected. The Welsh accent, the higher pitch, the serious, pleading tone was nothing like the deep pitch that flowed from between soft lips.

"Ianto? Please? Wake up."

From nothingness memory began to surface. Ianto blinked his eyes, and recognized the feel of a wet cloth brushed over his mouth and cheeks. The lights of the room penetrated the blackness and he remembered.

_He left me behind._

Then he felt the pain and had to wince his eyes closed. He opened his mouth to moan and felt Gwen's fingers pressed to his lips.

"Don't try to talk Ianto. The wound is really deep, it took the surgeons ages to get you put back together. Owen says it'll be a few days yet at least."

He opened his eyes to look into an indulgent smile on Gwen's face, and the visible tear tracks, those, more than her words, told him exactly how grave his condition had been, and perhaps still was. Fingers gingerly felt for the bandages that wrapped the wound he could finally remember.

_He saw me fall and he left me behind._

"We were so worried for you."

He tried to put a reassuring smile on his face; the worry was rolling off her in waves, but he was certain he hadn't succeeded. His heart wasn't in it; it was somewhere else, and she knew it. He began to mouth the name but she finished the word for him.

"Jack?"

He tried to nod, but the pain of movement quickly stopped that idea.

"He went after the thing, into the rift, we haven't heard from him in days." Her voice quivered, "We don't know where he is."

Tears pricked behind Ianto's eyes and he blinked to fight them back.

_He's really gone._

"I'm so sorry Ianto."

She reached for his hand as the door to his hospital room opened, Toshiko bursting in, Owen a few steps behind, much more sedately.

"Ianto!"

He could not help but notice the white gauze around her neck.

"Oh thank God!"

She came right to him, offering a careful embrace, which he was able to return.

"You saved my life Ianto." She sobbed into his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Nice job there Ianto." Owen's voice almost cracked a bit of emotion as he flipped through a paper chart he'd carried in with himself. Being a doctor had always brought its advantages Ianto often noted, one seemed to be the acquisition of hospital records.

"We thought you were dead, there was so much blood, and you were so still Ianto." Tosh was still clinging to him.

"Whatever kind of blade that thing had you are a lucky bloke. It could have cut clear to the bone but he only made it partway. Slashed up your larynx pretty well."

"Owen!" Gwen scolded him, clenching her jaw as she did.

"He'd rather know the truth Gwen." Owen countered.

"You don't have to be so damned blunt!"

"You had good surgeons Ianto, give it a few more days, you'll be talking like normal again."

Pursing his lips together Ianto nodded very slowly, and reached out to brush his fingers across the gauze on Tosh's neck, trying to convey his questions with his eyes.

"I'm okay. You knocked him off me, and he tried to kill you. Jack caught me, and we watched you drop, I thought you were dead. Jack got this terrible look in his eyes and he just started running, he must have thought you were dead too."

Ianto could tell that Tosh was making excuses, trying to spare him the pain she had assumed, (correctly) that he was feeling.

"Owen got us both to hospital, Gwen's been with you this whole time. We went back to the scene trying to get a read on the rift Jack went through, trying to track him. The computers are working on everything back at the Hub. You can get back there too, just as soon as the doctors will sign you out."

Pleading eyes turned their gaze to Owen.

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do Ianto."

Both the women were silent until Owen had closed the door behind him, leaving to find the hospitalist.

"We'll find him somehow." Tosh affirmed, clutching at Ianto's hand. He fought back the tears again, losing the battle, wiping one angrily off his cheek with his free hand. He knew that he should never have let himself fall for Jack, he knew that Jack saw him as little more than a shag. At least he did when he let his logical mind rule him, but that was so hard around Jack. He deluded himself more often than he should that Jack felt something more than lust when they were together. Now he didn't know where to go with his emotions.

_He left me behind._

ooOOoo

The thing people didn't always understand about travelling through time and space was that it wasn't always easy, especially when you did it without benefit of a vehicle like the Tardis. When you threw your body into it you often arrived at the other end with a distinct sense of nausea and disassociation. And it was no different that time when Jack crashed to his knees on the cobblestones. But that time, unlike the others, the nausea manifested itself with a sudden retching turning Jack over double. He let himself stay that way for several minutes, eyes closed, hearing his own heavy breathing echoing against the close alley he found himself in. He was alone. He'd lost his prey and he'd lost Ianto. The image of his friend, _more than my friend, _he corrected himself, lying in a pool of his own blood on the black stone, so still, forced itself to his eyes, and the bitter taste that accompanied it forced him to retch again.

He made himself breathe through the nausea, focusing on the pursuit. He knew that the man who had killed Ianto was there, and every pent up emotion was going to be channeled into the rage that had propelled him through the rift. Jack knew exactly where he was, and exactly where he would find the other Jack, and he drove himself straight, clenching his jaw, biting back the emotions that would cripple him.

"I will find you, you bastard, and I will kill you, just like I should have the first time around." He hissed it to the night and took off with determined steps towards the gaslights he could see at the end of the alley.

ooOOoo

It had taken no skill to procure lodgings for the night, Jack could talk himself into and out of most non-lethal situations with a flash of his brilliant smile and glittering blue eyes. A bit of skill with the dice earned a few coppers for his expenses, without being marked as a later target, and not wishing to seem at all out of place he waited until the morning to search out a newsie to find out exactly what point in time the Rift had dropped him.

"Letters from the Ripper!" The boy hollered out to the populace that passed around him on the sidewalk like water flowing around a rock in a stream. Jack flipped him a coin and took up the paper, confirming his suspicions that it was October 3rd; the date he knew that Scotland Yard had decided to publish the 'Dear Boss' letter and the 'Saucy Jack' postcard in the hopes that someone would recognize the handwriting and offer them a clue as to the identity of the Ripper. Jack knew that both letters were fakes, sent by journalists, unhappy with the Yard's lack of disclosure on the tantalizing subject of the murders, and eager to keep the subject in the headlines, to keep the money flowing into their coffers. The realization of the date hit Jack in the gut. His quarry was four murders into his five, Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes, it only left Mary Jane Kelly. But it left Jack nearly a month to cool his heels until he knew exactly where he would find the beast; and take his opportunity to kill him. Unless he could find him first; but that would possibly alter time lines far into the future, and Jack knew he had to let history play out in the right way, as much as it clutched at his insides.

It was one thing to work with Time Lords and Time Police, you were correcting things that had come out of time; maintaining the integrity of the time line, but to rush pal-mal through history was asking for more trouble than even Time Lords could fix. But the thought of having to waste a month there, a month alone, out of sight, having to grieve by himself, made the agony of seeing Ianto dead that much greater. It also presented the problem of finding a way to occupy himself, and pay for that occupation. With a deep sigh Jack retreated to the shadows, clutching at the paper, keeping his head down and moving with the masses until he could get back to his rooming house. He had been reckless with timelines before, and his actions had nearly cost him everything. He had to stay focused, focused on killing this other Jack, and then focused on how to get back to his own time. He knew well enough how to accomplish the first task, but he had no ideas how he was going to do the second. There was a London office; he knew where it would have been in his time but for the Warf incident, (that memory brought back a further one of Ianto, who had been present then). He wondered if they had seen his arrival, and if they would be looking for him. His first trip to that timeline had been a solo effort, dropped in and plucked out, earlier in the killing spree, so he knew there was no chance of running into himself; that was a paradox to be avoided at all costs. He mused about all the possibilities as he walked, the reverie broken by a new voice.

"I hadn't expected you back so soon Mr. 'Arkness." His landlady was sweeping off the front stoop.

"They've printed some letters from Jack the Ripper." He said, waving the crumpled paper for her. "I wanted to read them right away."

"What a 'orrible thing that is Mr. 'Arkness, I sure 'ope they catch him soon." She sat herself down heavily on the porch, leaning against her broom, catching a breath.

"As do I Mrs. Brandon."

"Would you read the story to me young man? My eyes aren't so good with the little print anymore."

Jack knew that it was more likely that she couldn't read at all, but he humored her with the same charming smile that had earned him a bed the evening before, and sat down beside her, spreading out the paper over his knees.

"Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck. Yours truly

Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha"

The older lady shivered beside Jack, and he patted her hand in a comforting kind of way, pursing his lips together.

"I was not codding dear old Boss when I gave you the tip, you'll hear about Saucy Jacky's work tomorrow double event this time number one squealed a bit couldn't finish straight off. Had not got time to get ears off for police thanks for keeping last letter back till I got to work again.

Jack the Ripper"

"And this after he killed two of those poor ladies."

"Someone should really be out there watching out for the ladies." Jack mused.

"Well there is the Vigilance Committee. Good strong men like yourself Mr. 'Arkness. Looking for the suspicious characters. I know I'd certainly feel safer if I 'ad to be out at night if I was on your arm."

Jack screwed up a smile and suppressed a laugh as Mrs. Brandon patted him on the arm, and worked her way to standing again.

"Perhaps I'll go and speak to this Committee then, offer my services?"

"You'll be wanting to speak to Mr. Lusk then, if you go by the Lodge today I'm sure you'll find him."

"Then that is what I will do Mrs. Brandon."

Jack Harkness was no fool, and he knew when a lucky break presented itself to him. Falling in with the Vigilance Committee would allow him the autonomy to patrol the streets unmolested and unsuspected. And he could find the exact location of the final murder, and position himself to intercept the man.


End file.
